


another name goes up in lights (like diamonds in the sky)

by andibeth82



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Beach Volleyball, Coming Out, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Femslash, M/M, Slice of Life, The Young Avengers are adorable failboats sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 03:17:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3634590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andibeth82/pseuds/andibeth82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Later, over beers on the fire escape, Cassie will grill Kate six ways to Sunday about how she had turned just the slightest bit of red when America nonchalantly admitted she was up for wearing skimpy clothing and throwing a ball around on the sand.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	another name goes up in lights (like diamonds in the sky)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paperclipbitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperclipbitch/gifts).



> Full disclosure: the initial idea for this fic may or may have not have been inspired by [these](http://purplethedragon.tumblr.com/post/112479103411/i-went-an-entire-month-without-drawing-them-are) [two](http://kelslk.tumblr.com/post/110659437583/beach-girlfriends) tumblr posts. Thank you, paperclipbitch, for providing fun prompts that allowed me to be creative with some of my favorite characters! You gave me so much to work with that I almost couldn't decide what to give you. And then because I'm me, this didn't exactly end up the way I initially envisioned it, but I had a lot of fun writing it. :) 
> 
> Thank you to **bobsessive** for beta and encouragement and to **geckoholic** for beta and for helping me get this into an actual story. It legitimately would not have existed without your brainstorm help, darling.
> 
>  _Another name goes up in lights, like diamonds in the sky_ \-- Taylor Swift

Kate doesn’t notice America so much as one day, Kate just _notices_ America.

Because America is tough and loud and she plays beach volleyball like it was something she was born to do; she moves with an ease that is so seamless, it should be outlawed. Because America is dark curls that routinely stray from her thick ponytail and a body that’s built in all the right places to fill out the blue and red outfit she wears as part of her team, her toes flexing expertly as she falls face first into the sand while _still_ getting a point. Because America is exactly the type of person Kate would be in trouble for going after, which means that obviously, she’s totally drawn to her.

“Hey, princess!” Kate barely has a chance to register the voice before a ball hits her square in the side of the head. “You wanna get down and dirty?”

And all Kate can think as she steps onto the sand is, _yes, yes I do._

 

***

 

It started as a joke, sort of, mostly because fighting crime in the summer was boring, and because Cassie wanted to do something that didn’t include sitting around playing video games, and because Clint just wanted to see Kate in a bikini. (And then it was, “ _you’ve seen me in skin-tight clothing five days a week when we save the world, how the hell is a purple bathing suit any different?” “It just_ is _, girlie-girl.”_ ) Billy and Teddy wanted in just for the hell of it, and America, t-shirt riding slightly up her hip and exposing skin along her thigh, had been sitting on the couch playing Candy Crush, glancing up from her phone only when the chatter between everyone stopped.

“Sure, fine. Sounds like a blast.”

(Later, over beers on the fire escape, Cassie will grill Kate six ways to Sunday about how she had turned just the slightest bit of red when America nonchalantly admitted she was up for wearing skimpy clothing and throwing a ball around on the sand.)

“We should get shirts,” Billy says a little too brightly as he links hands with Teddy. “So we match and everything.”

Kate makes a face. “Ew, gross. What are we, twelve?”

“Team shirts build teamwork,” Billy points out, grinning as he reaches out with his free hand. He grabs an abandoned cell phone off the couch, throwing it to Teddy. “Thought the other Hawkeye taught you that one.”

“Oh my god,” Kate bursts out as she lunges across America’s body, trying to ignore the thrill shooting through her stomach, “it was _one_ time!”

 

***

 

“Beach volleyball is totally the worst idea,” Kate supplies two days later when she’s had a chance to think about it, and so of course it would figure that when she does want to complain to someone, it has to be America. It’s nearing ninety degrees thanks to Manhattan’s current heat wave and Kate’s pretty sure she’s never been more miserable, except maybe during the times she was forced to sit through one of her father’s fancy dinners and pretend like hell to be interested.

America grins as she bites into an apple. “Why? You afraid you’re gonna be made fun of, princess? Worried the boys are gonna show you up?”

“Ha ha ha,” Kate mutters under her breath, snatching a bottle out of America’s grasp. “You know I never miss. That extends to volleyballs as well as arrows.”

America leans sideways on the counter, hair spilling off her shoulder and down her back, and Kate attempts not to stare at the way her hip is jutting out _just so._

“Well, for what it’s worth, I can’t wait to see you smash the shit out of something that’s not a bad guy.”

 

***

 

So as it turns out, America can kick Kate’s ass at beach volleyball. And as it turns out, Kate’s also right about her skills – she never misses.

Cassie’s found a court at Pier 25 in Tribeca, with a large sandy pit that overlooks the Statue of Liberty. They split up (Billy, Teddy, and Kate on one team; America, Cassie, and David on the other) and Kate thinks there could be worse things in life than aligning with the most lovesick pair of individuals the superhero world has ever seen.

“Unfair advantage!” Billy calls as America spikes a ball past him. “She’s taller!”

“Oh, grow up,” America responds, rolling her eyes. “At least princess here can stand to lose a few games.”

( _Smirk_ , _smirk_ , _smirk,_ Cassie responds silently from the other side of the net, her eyes glistening, and Kate grits her teeth as she serves the ball hard into an open space at a speed even America can’t match.)

They end up losing their first match 6-2, and the only consolation is that Kate is going to get lunch bought for her; so really, it’s not so bad.

 

***

 

Anyway, America kicks Kate’s ass in beach volleyball, and then they get fries.

They get fries because Kate is craving something salty and America hasn’t eaten all day, and they end up behind each other in line mostly because Billy and Teddy refuse to stop making out long enough to make a decision on what they want from the vendor. So America grabs Kate’s hand and drags her towards the front of the line before she can say otherwise, and Kate can almost _see_ Cassie’s face somewhere behind her.

 _Smirk, smirk, smirk_.

“Did I ever tell you,” America says when they sit down at a long bench, and she shoves sunglasses onto her face, “that I really like the color purple?” She puts a hand on Kate’s leg and offers her a smile.

That’s the night Kate goes home, showers, and then changes her Facebook relationship status to “it’s complicated.”

(Because, well. It _is_.)

 

***

 

The first time they kiss, it’s by accident.

Teddy’s holding some party that Kate would have otherwise refused to go to, because Kate _hates_ parties, and because she hates pretending to be social when she’d rather be flopping down face first on the bed with Netflix. But there’s free food, and as a part of the team, she’s kind of forced to at least make an appearance -- lest Billy start spreading rumors over Twitter about what she’s doing with her free time. (She still hasn’t let him live down _got lost with Barton in Brooklyn after being chased by a wendigo. The wendigo won._ ) At any rate, Kate’s in the middle of getting dressed, slipping a thin purple camisole over her black bra, when the door to her room unexpectedly opens, a block of messy curls preceding a surprised face.

“Oh, shit.” America freezes. “Fuck. Sorry. I swear…look, Cassie told me that you wanted help with your hair and that I should go upstairs.”

Kate lets out a long breath. “Of course she did,” Kate mutters, tugging the shirt down a little lower. She realizes too late that it’s probably having the opposite effect, showing more of her breasts than she would normally feel comfortable with.

“If you want, I can still do your hair,” America offers with an eyebrow raise. Kate opens her mouth to protest before her own Facebook profile flashes across her eyes.

_Relationship status: It’s complicated._

“Don’t give me a weave or anything,” she allows reluctantly as she sits down on the bed, and America grins, walking forward and settling herself behind her.

“Princess, you are way too pretty for a _weave_.”

She drags her fingers through dark tresses, and Kate fights a tremor as soft fingernails scrap gently over her head, resisting the urge to react visibly.

“Elastic,” America says when she has half of Kate’s hair gathered in one hand and is twisting it into something Kate can’t see but figures has to be decent, considering the way she knows America can style. She turns her head slightly, slipping the black band off her wrist, and is unexpectedly met with another pair of lips.

And while her instinct is to immediately resort to panic, her brain urging her to pull away, _pull away_ , she doesn’t, and neither does America, and their mouths linger for what Kate feels is an eternity.

“Um.” Kate says when they’ve broken away, swallowing against a dry throat. “Are you…are you planning on going to the party?”

America smiles and leans forward, placing a light kiss on the side of her cheek. “Princess, this ain’t a party for people like us.”

 

***

 

“Katie-Kate, what’s this about a relationship status being complicated?”

“Oh my god, Barton. Do you even _have_ a Facebook?”

“Why the hell does that matter? Anyway, Natasha has one. You know, for missions and stuff. I use her password.”

“Right.”

“Seriously, what’s the complicated part? It’s not us, is it?”

“ _Definitely_ not.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Idiot.”

“Brat.”

“Target practice at 10?”

“See you there, Hawkeye.”

 

***

 

“Tell me about the first time you got drunk,” America says. It’s past midnight and she’s snuck them past the closed off sign that warns for trespassing, and Kate’s going to forgive the fact that there’s probably sand in her underpants if only for the fact that America’s been able to swipe a bottle of leftover Cabernet from Teddy’s affair.

“Ummm.” Kate reaches for the half-drained wine bottle, tipping it back a little too carelessly. “Probably like, twelve. Maybe thirteen. One of my dad’s parties, not that he cared so much.” She forces out a bitter laugh. “Didn’t even notice the missing alcohol, let alone me.”

“Parents suck,” America agrees, taking the bottle from her hand absently. “It’s why I like our group so much. Found family, you know?”

“Yeah,” says Kate, drawing straight lines in the sand with her fingers. “Misfits and criminals.”

“And one really good marksman,” America says, shooting Kate a grin that makes her insides churn, because she knows that America’s not talking about Clint. Kate finds herself smiling back.

“You wanna test that theory?”

America raises an eyebrow. “Sure,” she says. “But unless you’ve got a quiver hidden in those tiny pants of yours, I don’t see how we can.”

Kate smiles a little wider, pushing up on her hands and rubbing sand off the butt of her shorts.

“Give me a quarter, will ya?”

America gives her a slightly confused look, but reaches into her pocket and unearths a mess of change, out of which she plucks a large silver coin.

“May I?”

Kate doesn’t wait for an answer as she takes the quarter from America’s hand, feeling something electric run down her arms and through her limbs as their fingers brush. She sticks the wine upwards in the sand and then starts to walk backwards, keeping her body in line with the bottle.

“Hey, girlie! Where are you going?” America calls curiously. Kate doesn’t answer until she’s a good yard or so away, squinting into the distance. She releases the coin with a quick flick of her wrist and it spirals through the air like a shooting star falling low, hurtling forward at dizzying speed until it clanks against the side of the bottle, hitting it perfectly square in the center.

Kate walks back towards America, unable to hide the smug grin that she knows is shadowing her face; she considers herself humble for the most part, so long as Clint’s not there to undermine her with his _other, better, Hawkeye_  crap.

Kate’s barely lowered herself back to a sitting position before America grabs her around the waist, pulling her backwards, hands tangling in messy hair while her mouth finds Kate’s lips with relative ease. There’s sand on her face and sand in her ears and Kate realizes as she kisses back that suddenly, she really, _really_ doesn’t care.

“Like I said.” America breaks the kiss and smiles, running her hand down Kate’s cheek, and in the dim light of the moon, her eyes look as bright as anything. “Misfits, criminals, and one really good marksman.”

 

***

 

“ _It’s complicated_?”

“Oh, shut up, Teddy.”

“At least when Billy and I committed, we put down _in a relationship_.”

Kate rolls her eyes as she sits on the couch next to Cassie. “Jesus, come on. You and Billy are like the pinnacle of gay couples in New York _and_ the entire superhero league combined. I don’t think you needed to worry about stuff when you came out.”

“She’s a got a point,” Billy agrees with a shrug as America gives him a look from across the room. “ _What_? I’m just saying.”

“Are you calling this meeting to order at time in the next millennium?” America asks scathingly. “Or are we just going to sit here discussing our private lives for the rest of the night?”

Teddy scowls. “Okay. Fine. Anyone wanna volunteer to call the other Hawkeye and let him know his partner is technically off the market for those nights he gets drunk and forgets she likes girls?”

Four hands shoot in the air, and Teddy surveys all of them before sighing loudly.

“Anyone _other_ than the person in question?”

One purple-gloved hand lowers itself dejectedly, leaving three, and Teddy groans again.

“Anyone _other_ than America Chavez?”

 

***

 

Kate’s outside on the fire escape, cleaning her weapons, when Cassie climbs through the open bedroom window and joins her without asking.

“So, do I get a thank you?”

“For shoving me out of the closet with a parachute?” Kate asks bluntly, hitching her quiver so that it’s propped up next to her thigh as Cassie takes a seat beside her. “Yeah, thanks, I guess. I’ll let you know when to expect a reimbursement check.”

Cassie takes one of Kate’s arrows, twirling it around in her fingers. “And to think there was a time you thought beach volleyball was a terrible idea.”

“I didn’t say it was a terrible idea,” Kate defends, her words slightly muffled thanks to the fact her tongue is stuck inside her cheek. “Just…not the best idea.”

“Yeah, but that not-the-best-idea got you an _it’s complicated_ on Facebook,” says Cassie. “ _I_ never even got that status.”

“Neither did Barton,” Kate points out. Cassie frowns.

“That doesn’t exactly make me feel better.”

Kate grins. “I know,” she says lightly, shoving her foot against Cassie’s knee. “Speaking of Barton, if I don’t get this fixed, I’ll never kick his ass properly. Hand me that arrow, will you?”

Cassie sighs and tosses it forward, and Kate grabs the weapon with two nimble fingers.

“America was taking a shower when I stopped by your room, you know. Like, she was in your bathroom.”

“Yep.” Kate sticks the arrow back in her quiver, and Cassie shakes her head.

“You’re totally not coming to dinner tonight, are you?”

Kate looks up, catches her friend’s eye, and smiles.

 

***

 

Six days later, on July 4th, America wakes her up by texting from the other room and telling her to be downstairs by ten.

(They go to Kate’s favorite diner, the one with the big-ass pancakes, and America pays for the meal while playing with Kate’s foot under the table.)

Six days later, on July 4th, America brings Kate to the real beach at Coney Island and walks hand-in-hand with her down the boardwalk.

(America buys her ice cream, vanilla with oversized chocolate chunks, and Kate doesn’t bother to ask how she knows that’s her favorite.)

Six days later, on July 4th, America takes Kate up to the top of the Empire State Building and kisses her while fireworks explode behind them, sending the same sparkling fire down their skin that Kate feels spreading through her own body.

(It is absolutely the most cliché thing Kate’s ever done in her life, and she can’t imagine spending her night any other way.)


End file.
